On Roses and Healing
by PinkElephant42
Summary: HPDM oneshot. Harry is in St. Mungo's, and Draco is there to help him. This is a companion piece to Please Wake Up, but is made to stand on its own as well.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: This is a nice little one-shot to go with "Please Wake Up" and "Cheating in Quidditch," which will be posted shortly. I thought that maybe Harry and Draco should have a happy, hopeful moment before I start tormenting them again. Enjoy, and review please!

Also, thank you to my beta, HPalto87

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**On Roses and Healing**

I am fighting in the Final Battle, but it all feels far away somehow. I don't seem to have control over my actions. It's as if someone else is choosing my fate for me, and I am a stranger within my own mind.

My friends are fighting alongside me, but they all seem distant as well. For some reason that, I can't quite grasp, they can't get close to me. Everything is misty, and the details are vague. I catch only glimpses of the battle around me.

A pale, snake-like figure with red eyes comes toward me, and I point my wand at him. My head is pounding, but I know I can't give in to the pain. I yell the words I know will end this war.

"Avada kedavra!"

A flash of green light consumes my world, and then there is nothing.

The dream isn't long, but it's enough to jolt me awake. I immediately lift my fingers to my scar, expecting it to hurt, but it doesn't. It hasn't hurt since Voldemort died.

Since I killed him.

"Harry?" A concerned voice reaches through my sleep-clouded mind. I look around, and my gaze falls on Draco. He is sitting in the plastic chair next to my bed, a book in his lap.

"Are you all right?" He asks, and moves to sit on the edge of my bed.

No, I'm not all right, but I don't want to worry him further. "Yes," I reply. "It was only a dream."

He smiles, but looks unconvinced. "If you need anything, promise you'll ask," he demands.

I hesitate, but I agree. "I will."

Draco kisses me lightly and sweetly. "Scoot over," he says, and I comply. He joins me beneath the covers, and kisses me again. I cuddle him, grateful for his comforting presence.

I don't like staying in St. Mungo's, but I need the Medi-Wizards' help to regain my strength. I need their potions and their care. The war left me drained, physically and emotionally, and I feel so weak most of the time. I know the Medi-wizards can help me get better.

The hospital is stuffy. The air seems thick, making it difficult to breathe. The fact that I know this is not actually true, and that the problem lies in my mind and not my surroundings, makes it more difficult to deal with. Draco senses my anxiety, and begins rubbing circles into my back.

The Medi-Wizards and my visitors are over-bearing. I know they all care, but for the most part I want to be left alone to heal. I want them all to just go away sometimes, and let me deal with it all in my own time.

No, I don't want to talk about it.

No, I don't need more sleeping potions.

All I want is my boyfriend.

Without Draco, I don't know if I would make it through this. He stays with me as much as the St. Mungo's staff will allow. He doesn't even mind that the potions I am given often put me to sleep. Usually he spends the time reading while I snuggle into him. Draco only leaves at night for some decent food and sleep; then, each morning, he brings me a single red rose.

A lot of people send me flowers, but his mean the most. They're the only ones I keep close to my bed. The rest sit on the wide windowsill across the room.

Draco's flowers are a sign of love and affection, but more importantly, of hope. Each rose is another day that I live through this, because for a while no one thought I would. Each rose brings us one step closer to beginning our life together, because we don't have to hide our relationship anymore.

With each rose, I heal a little more.

The Medi-Wizards are concerned with not only my physical well-being, but my mental and emotional states as well. They feel I may be unbalanced due to everything that has happened to me. I never had a normal childhood, after all, and when I entered the wizarding world I was immediately thrown into a war without any choice. My fate has been sealed since before my birth.

One thing they are worried about is my sense of purpose. Now that my destiny has been fulfilled, what will I do with myself? I try to reassure them that I will be fine. I explain that I intend to live a quiet life with Draco. This doesn't seem to be any comfort to them, however. After all, Draco bares the Dark Mark on his arm.

No matter how many times the two of us try to explain the situation, people still don't believe it. We tell them that Draco worked as a spy for the Order, reporting directly to me and Dumbledore during the war. But after what we did, I can't really blame them for not believing.

We had been able to keep our relationship a secret for a long time, but eventually it got out. In consequence, we staged a very bad break-up in order to protect each other. Although we needed everyone to believe that we had both been hurt, we never actually stopped loving each other.

The wizarding world is having a difficult time accepting this. They can't accept that the person their savior wants most in the world is the one who appears to have hurt him more deeply than anyone or anything else; but Draco and I believe we can overcome this.

I want a simple life with Draco. For a while it will just be the two of us, living in a nice house away from the city crowds. Then, someday, we'll adopt a child and start a family. I want to give an orphan the family and the opportunities that I never got.

I have seen a side of Draco that most people never do, and I think he would make a good father. He is caring and passionate beneath his icy exterior. With me, he drops the mask he has worked so hard to create. Despite what everyone thinks, he is not the ideal Slytherin.

Draco absently runs his right hand through my hair, and the feeling is comforting. His left hand holds his book, but he doesn't appear to be reading. I run my fingers lightly over his forearm, tracing the Dark Mark.

"What are you thinking about, Angel?" I ask, using my pet name for him.

"Us," he replies. "Our future. We've got so much time ahead of us."

"I'm excited about it," I say.

Draco smiles and kisses my scar. "So am I, love."

Draco stays until St. Mungo's visiting hours end. He reluctantly kisses me good-bye, and I try to fall asleep, even though the bed feels empty without him. I examine the roses by my bed instead.

Some are still bright shades of red, still alive and flourishing. Some have turned purple and are in various stages of wilting. A small portion are just stems, their dried, withered petals resting on the table beneath the vase.

Like every night, an aide offers to discard the flowers that are dying, and like every night, I tell her to leave them alone. These roses belong to Draco and me, and they hold a sort of magic for us. Touching them would destroy that.

For, these roses hold our hopes, and our future. Each one that lives represents the life we will have together, and each one that dies represents another obstacle we have gone through to achieve it.

Draco is back the next morning with a new rose. Like each day, I place it carefully in the vase with the others, and like each day, I heal just a little bit more.


End file.
